


hunting

by agentcalliope



Series: (un)learning [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hakoda (Avatar) is a Good Parent, Hurt/Comfort, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27386578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentcalliope/pseuds/agentcalliope
Summary: Azula's hunted before.She won't deny it, if Hakoda asks.(he doesn't)
Relationships: Azula & Hakoda (Avatar)
Series: (un)learning [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2000647
Comments: 24
Kudos: 159





	hunting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quartzy_Loves_Magic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quartzy_Loves_Magic/gifts).



> for the-bones-fall who prompted me with Hakoda and Azula hunting together! Shout out to zone for betaing :)

Azula’s hunted before.

Not in the way it usually means, of course. But still. She’s hunted. And chased. And stalked.

In hunting, she’s learned, there are no shades of gray— there’s only black and white. Hunt or be hunted. Predator and prey. She’s always been a natural predator, only been a predator, perfect narrowed eyes on her target. A smirk on her lips. Blue at her fingertips.

She’s hunted, before. She won’t deny it if he asks.

But Hakoda doesn’t. Ask, that is. Instead he comes to her as she lights up the dark sky with blue fire, the children giggling and clapping their hands and he says, _Tomorrow, Azula, we’re going hunting_. _Be ready early._

He walks away. The blue fire dissipates as Azula bows low, hands placed in the Flame, telling the children it’s time for goodnight.

(Some children smile, stifling yawns as they leave obediently. Others groan and stomp their feet, begging for _one more please just one more!_ and leave, muttering under their breaths.)

(One small, small boy stays behind with her as everyone else leaves. He hesitates. And then he blurts out, _Thank you, Azula!_ and scampers away.)

She lies awake that night, telling herself over and over again that she’s hunted before. This will be no different.

After all, she knows how to track. How to plan two steps ahead. She knows exactly what to do if the prey strikes back and how to in turn, strike fear. She could always see it in their eyes. She used to relish in that, before.

Yes. This time will be no different. Hakoda will be pleased, she thinks.

He wakes her up before dawn, two spears in the crook of his arm and a pack slung across his shoulders. Motions for her to quietly follow him, and that’s not a problem at all. They somehow manage to avoid waking up both Gran Gran and Uncle. Well, she’s not quite that surprised about Uncle. That man could sleep through a Komodo rhino ambush and then some more. His snores don’t help, either. She still teases him about the time—

But no. Stop. She’s distracting herself. A predator must be focused. She _knows_ this.

Azula follows Hakoda to the edge of the camp, following as he steps onto the canoe. He waits until she sits down to set down his pack and the spears, picking up a paddle and handing it to her. She takes it. He takes another for himself.

And then, they leave.

(Soon, Azula shivers. It is cold, before the sun. She closes her eyes and hears Uncle tell her to remember her breath of fire. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.)

(Soon, she is warm enough.)

The sun rises, just cresting over the expanse of blue. Chucks of ice float around them. The wind is a gentle breeze that ruffles her furs and whispers across her face. It is welcoming.

“This is a good spot.” He puts down his paddle and when she does the same, gives her a spear. She holds it tightly. Hakoda points to the graying sky, and she glances up. “It is best to fish early, so there are no shadows from the sun to give us away.”

She nods.

Hakoda leans over the canoe slightly, as he gestures towards the water.

She looks.

All she can see is her reflection, at first. Azula blinks, and narrows her eyes, willing herself to look past it. There’s something else there, if Hakoda wants her to look.

“Fishing is about patience, Azula. Patience, and calculation. We must wait for a fish to appear—It will not come simply because we wish it to. And see how the light through the water makes things seem… a bit off?” He points through the water and Azula peering at the depths below, but all she can see is blue. “When you see a fish, aim for where it is going, not where it is, and not where it has been.”

“So now…. We wait?”

A nod. “We wait.”

They wait.

And they wait.

And they wait.

Azula glares at the blue below her, ignoring the face glaring back. Prays to Agni and even the water spirits Tui and La that something, _anything_ will show up soon. She grips the edge of the canoe with one hand and the spear with the other. She is ready. Has been, for a long time.

There’s a chuckle beside her and she quickly turns to see Hakoda’s smile. “What?”

“You look like my son,” Hakoda says, shaking his head. “Except he usually sticks out his tongue.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that, so she doesn’t. Azula turns back around and resumes her position, waiting for something will come.

Hakoda catches eleven fish. Azula catches none.

He takes her silence for frustration, narrowed eyes for anger and tight lips for disappointment. “Hunting is about patience and calculation, Azula. It’s also about practice. We will come back in the morning, and try again.”

He’s right of course, about everything. She is frustrated and angry and disappointed.

She thinks he thinks it’s her first time. Hunting. It isn’t in every sense of the word and she’s glad he doesn’t say that she’s new at this and that’s why she’s terrible at it because if he did she would tell him it’s not she won’t deny it.

Azula gazes down at the calm and steady reflection of herself and almost throws her spear down, right through it, just to actually spear something.

She doesn’t know why, but she thinks she wants him to ask.

He doesn’t.

The rest of the day is spent helping Gran Gran clean and smoke Hakoda’s fish. Then it’s a cup of tea with Iroh. Later, she practices ice dodging with Hakoda on the cutter sailing ship. It is a good day, considering its beginning. By the end, she is tired.

And when the sun sets and the moon rises, despite her aching muscles and fluttering eyes, she goes to meet the children at their usual spot. She likes it when they laugh and clap their hands and beg for more and thank her with shy smiles. She always sleeps better, after that.

Hakoda wakes her again just before dawn. Again, they creep out of the iglu without waking Gran Gran and Uncle, and again they step into the canoe and push off with a steady pace.

Azula almost catches a fish, this time. Well, it’s the closest she’s ever been to catching one. The sunlight reflects through the fish’s scales and it cuts through her blue-hued reflection. She can see it clearly, raising her spear and directing it ahead of the fish just like she was taught—

She pulls up the spear, empty.

There’s a noise behind her and she looks back to see Hakoda hauling a large fish out of the water.

Azula makes sure he doesn’t catch her looking.

She tries, again and again and again.

She will not go home without something.

A flash of light. Azula throws down her spear and there’s more than just a splash in the water. She pulls it up to see a fish wriggling on the tip.

It is small and ugly. But it is _something_.

She glances over her shoulder, and Hakoda is looking, something she imagines like pride, real pride, in his eyes. “See? I knew you could do it.”

Azula looks down at the water, the ripples expanding outward.

And in it, her reflection smiles.

That night, after her belly is full and she is satisfied, Azula stares at Hakoda through flickering flames. Soon, it will be time to go light up the dark sky with sparkling blue and the sound of children’s laughter. She might not get another chance to tell him. It has to be now.

He never asked, anyways.

“I’ve hunted, before.” Azula says, slowly drawing out each word.

Hakoda tilts his head to the side. “I know.”

“No… I mean… not in the way you’ve taught me.” She swallows. “Not in the way it really means. But I have. Hunted, before.”

“I know.” Hakoda repeats.

Azula… does not understand. “If you knew, why didn’t you ask?”

“Well, why did you want me to?”

Azula doesn’t know how to respond to that. Between them, the fire roars. She looks up at the sky and thinks that the inky blackness is haunting, and threatens to swallow her whole.

She whispers, “Do you think I was… bad?”

Hakoda shakes his head. “I only know Azula now, not Azula before. And the Azula I know now is becoming better than who she was."

In the morning, just before dawn, Hakoda grabs his pack and the spears and goes to wake Azula.

He doesn’t need to.

She’s already waiting.


End file.
